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[IC] Setting the Lanceboard
https://www.amiaworld.net/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=134&t=88808		 Page 1 of 1
Author:  Green_Dragoon_Knight [ Sat, Apr 08 2017, 8:55 AM ]
Post subject:  [IC] Setting the Lanceboard
The hour was late for the crawled march of moon through the star-spangled maze of cobalt sky. The township of Wharftown was motionless, save the caress of wind
through the treetops and steady clop of hooves that met the dirt road in departure from the dusty road. Atop the curve of saddled beast’s back, there swayed a
figure for stead’s movements. Clad in the wrap of cloak’s fabric and the downward slant of the stranger’s hood, clicking steps came to halt with a weary whinny and
the tender pat of her fur hide in gratitude. “Be still my friend. You have served well.” – naught but a whisper spoken for the slow dismount of swung leg, still from
the day’s travel. To the figure that emerged from barn., stifling a yawn amidst suspicions, a nod was lent along with weathered reins and a small hempen sack that
clinked and jingled in the quiet night.

The hooded figure made their way to one building in particular. Within the shadowed overhang of hood, a pair of lips drew to smile in a manner that could only be
described as nostalgic; a painted memory upon canvas that spoke of better days amongst the circumstances of the present. The dawning of reality returned anew
with the brush of gloved fingers that passed over the gold ring on his hand; a dance that melted away as he moved to deliver the letter, with map attached to it.

Letter [In Character Spoiler]:
~Mayor Garth,

I write to you that we might talk as men. I seek answers to the query wrought in nearby land. The map provided gives the location in question. Of which my
question is in regards of the proprietary rights of which Wharftown might hold. The reasoning behind this question is known in the name of The Red Knight, of
whom I wish to build an outpost that would double as a temple.
Highest Regards,
Daemon Arowarven~



*The Map would give a very accurate depiction of the Gulf of Lumorier, Pearldiver's Peak.*


As parchment touched ground, the figures hands curled into fists and they toss them to the floor. With a heavy breath, the young individual leans forward as they
murmur a prayer, the cloak drawn up close around them in a small measure of comfort as the hooded figures mind continues to race. Words slip freely, and any
nosey person would overhear. “Let this game now be ended.” The prayer a simple one, but anyone knowing of the Red Knight would know it one of the simplest of
her loyal followers’ prayers. Blonde hair falls from the hood, and the individual lurches upright, pulled from prayer with a serene look. They would move freely to
The Shanty where the horse had been stalled.
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